Category Archives: life

August 17, 2012 · 7:36 PM

Whirly, Swirly Unschooling Days

One of the first things people ask me when they begin to get a tenuous grasp on unschooling is, “So what does a typical day look like?”  And my gut response is typically led with,

“Um….”   Not because we don’t do anything, and not because I don’t know what we do, but because each day is different than the last.  Because it depends.  It depends on the season, it depends on the kids, it depends on me, it depends on current interests.    The common thread though is that when we’re in our groove, the days just… flow… like a river that’s winding its way among the rocks and the shore.  Sometimes raging, sometimes trickling, but always, always moving.

Yesterday was one of the whirling, flowing unschooly days that started before I even got out of bed.  The girl and I were laying in bed, snuggling and laughing and talking about the very important things that moms and daughters talk about, when she decided that she needed her “brudder,” Everett.  We called the brudder, and he joined us for about 30 seconds, until he remembered that I’d promised him the day before that we could play Monopoly.

We went straight from bed to the kitchen table, where we played Monopoly until we realized we needed to go to the store.  Tegan has been living to bake lately, and she needed rainbow sprinkles for her most recently chosen cookie recipe.

The keys were not even in the ignition before Everett excitedly asked from the backseat, “Can you ask me a question??”  One of his current favorite things to do in the car is play a sort of impromptu quiz game.  He picks a subject, and I make up a question.  Car-schooling at its finest.   Yesterday it was math.  We played all the way to Fresh and Easy  (where the sprinkles ended up costing $37 because we also ransacked their clearance shelf while we were there) and all the way home.

When we got home, he asked me to help him find a website where he could practice his math.   He’d been having so much fun with the questions in the car that he didn’t want to stop.  I remembered that I’d just recently heard someone talking about Khan Academy again, and I’d yet to check it out.  So I googled it, and got him signed up while the girl gathered all her cookie ingredients on the counter.  I was looking at the website, impressed, and told Everett, “Wow, this site has everything from basic math to geometry to chemistry to physics….”

“What’s physics?”

Spencer and Paxton were up by then, and they both nearly simultaneously spouted,

“All actions have an equal and opposite…”

and

“An object in motion stays in motion…”

No idea where they learned it.    Paxton said something about them talking about physics on Dr Who, which made him want to watch Dr Who, which he then went to go do immediately.   Spencer went back to his computer, where he was working on creating a step-by-step instruction sheet for setting up your own server on Minecraft.   Tegan and I got to work on our cookies, and Everett did this, for the next eight hours:

Tegan and I played with My Little Ponies and watched Chipwrecked while we waited for the cookies to cool, then I whipped up some frosting so she could decorate them.    After dinner, Everett moved on from math to computer science, and he and Paxton spent the rest of the night learning and playing with simple programming.

I went to bed early to watch a movie, exhausted.  But the best kind of exhausted there is.

This morning, Everett was right back on Khan, we played another game of Monopoly (this time played right through till the bitter end.  I may have lost); and we spent the greater part of the afternoon out running errands.

It’s a pretty good life.

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Filed under life, unschooling

August 6, 2012 · 1:32 PM

I’m a Hypocrite (and sometimes I don’t recycle)

A truth about blogging:  Sometimes no matter how carefully you choose your words, no matter how diplomatic and respectful you feel you’re being, no matter how clearly you think you’ve shared your viewpoint…. you still get called judgmental.  Short-sighted.  Preachy.  Hypocritical.

Hypocritical.  Hypocritical.  Hypocritical.

The odd thing is the perverse pleasure people seem to take in pointing out this perceived hypocrisy.  “Admit it!  You’re a hypocrite!!”

Okay, I’m a hypocrite.  So what?   I don’t mean to be flip, and of course I strive not to be a hypocrite.  It’s just that everyone (at least if s/he’s being honest) is a hypocrite sometimes.  We all mess up.  We vow to do better.  We change our minds.  We learn.  We grow.  We mess up again.  We’re human.

I’ve kept this blog for over 6 years now.  I GUARANTEE you that I’ve contradicted myself.  I guarantee you that I’ve written posts I’m no longer proud of.  I guarantee you that I haven’t always been as nice as I could have been.

The only difference between me and anyone else is that my missteps are out there on the internet for all to see and critique.

And if I don’t happen to be writing about it, you can rest assured that I’m living it.

Yes, sometimes I’m a hypocrite.

Sometimes I don’t get enough sleep and I snap at my husband.

Sometimes I don’t get enough sleep and I snap at my kids.

Sometimes I gossip.

Sometimes I judge people too quickly.

Sometimes I’m impatient.

Sometimes I’m just too damn tired to rinse out the peanut butter jar, and I throw it in the trash instead of the recycling bin which is right. next. to. it.

And you know what?  I refuse to beat myself up about any of the above.  If you’d like to beat me up for it, that’s certainly your prerogative.   Indeed, it’s easy and convenient to make a snap judgment about someone based on one real moment (I know… I’ve done that too…) rather than recognizing each other for what we really are: fellow travelers at various ports in this journey of life.  Growing through our trials, learning from our mistakes, and waking up each day with a new resolve to do better.  At the end of the day, we’re not much different, you and I.

I’m not yet the person I want to be, but that’s okay…. because He’s not done working on me yet.

And thank God for that.

16 Comments

Filed under about me, acceptance, growing up, hypocrisy, judgement, learning, life

August 3, 2012 · 6:00 AM

The Starfish Story

 

While walking along a beach, an elderly gentleman saw someone in the distance leaning down, picking something up and throwing it into the ocean.

As he got closer, he noticed that the figure was that of a young man, picking up starfish one by one and tossing each one gently back into the water.

He came closer still and called out, “Good morning! May I ask what it is that you are doing?”

The young man paused, looked up, and replied “Throwing starfish into the ocean.”

The old man smiled, and said, “I must ask, then, why are you throwing starfish into the ocean?”

To this, the young man replied, “The sun is up and the tide is going out. If I don’t throw them in, they’ll die.”

Upon hearing this, the elderly observer commented, “But, young man, do you not realise that there are miles and miles of beach and there are starfish all along every mile? You can’t possibly make a difference!”

The young man listened politely. Then he bent down, picked up another starfish, threw it into the back into the ocean past the breaking waves and said, “It made a difference for that one.”

 

~ Adapted from a story originally by Loren Eiseley.  Thanks to Susan from Together Walking for sharing this beautiful sentiment!

1 Comment

Filed under inspirational, life, perspective

August 2, 2012 · 6:00 AM

Dear Chick Fil A: I Love You, But…

Chick Fil A.

You’re sick to death of hearing about it.  I am too.  BELIEVE ME, I am too.  Two days ago, I vowed I would not weigh in.   Yesterday I realized I had no choice, if for no other reason than to preserve my own sanity and get it off my chest, if not off my news feed.

I am a huge proponent of respecting other people’s right to have their own opinions, and to voice those opinions as they see fit.  Let me just start there.  One of the things that has bothered me about this from the start (and there are so very many things that bother me about it) is that those of us who don’t agree with Dan Cathy’s stance are getting accused of not respecting his right to free speech.   Of course he has the right to speak.  Is anyone actually saying he doesn’t?  That’s an honest question…  I’ve read so many ugly words coming from both sides that at some point I started tuning them out.

Another one I’m seeing a lot of is a graphic that says:  “‘I disagree’ is not equal to ‘I hate you.'”  Absolutely.  Merely disagreeing, and harboring hatred are two entirely different things.

Here’s the problem…

I’m of the opinion (and remember, Dan Cathy gets to have an opinion.  I get to have an opinion.  We all get to have an opinion) I’m of the opinion that the Bible is not nearly as black and white on the issue of homosexuality as most of my fellow Christians would have you believe.  Setting that conversation completely aside, let’s say for the sake of argument that homosexuality is wrong.  There still remains the fact that the Bible is exceedingly clear on one thing.  We are called to LOVE. 

Of course, of course!  Love the sinner, hate the sin. 

No.  No, no, no.  Love the sinner (and we’re all sinners).  Period.   I believe that that “Love the sinner, hate the sin” admonishment is one of the most hurtful and damaging phrases ever to be uttered.  If we’re actively hating something about someone else, we believe they should change.   We’re making our love conditional, and half-hearted at best.   In essence we’re saying, “I love you, but…” Can any good come after that ‘but’?   To truly and completely love, we just have to LOVE.   With no strings, and no conditions.  Think homosexuality is a sin?  So is pride.  So is arrogance.  So is gossip.  So is judgement.

Love anyway.

Chick Fil A donates money – millions of dollars worth of money – to organizations whose whole reason for existence is to fight against, and ostracize, gay individuals… including groups that link homosexuality to pedophilia, groups that feel homosexuality should be outlawed, groups that think homosexuals should be exported from our country, and groups that believe homosexuality is something that can be “prayed away.”  One of these groups is the Family Research Council, which has been designated a hate group by the Southern Poverty Law Center.  I ask you, implore you, in all sincerity …. if you were homosexual, or your child or your best friend or your brother were homosexual, would any of the above groups (or the organizations such as Chick Fil A that support them) make you feel particularly loved?

I’ll be honest:  I’ve never eaten at Chick Fil A, mainly because I just don’t eat that kind of food.  And I’m certainly not going to start now, not because I simply disagree (I want to be really clear about that) but because just as it’s their right to financially support blatantly anti-gay organizations, it’s my right not to.  And yes, I’m aware that I’m likely supporting other such organizations without even knowing about it…. but when you know better, you do better.   I want my dollars to support groups that promote love, not more division.

I have seen so much righteous indignation, name-calling, and judgment from both sides of the issue.   I’ve seen well-meaning Christians proudly boasting about their support of a company that they may or may not realize gives money to a known hate group; and I’ve seen detractors casually throwing out words like bigots, and homophobes, and haters.

I’ve seen people telling Dan Cathy in no uncertain terms where to go and how to get there.  And that’s clearly not the answer here either.

These are real people … people with failings and shortcomings to be sure … but real people, who are so much more than a cause or a principle or a religious or political crusade.  And as I’ve thought about it, and pulled it apart, and boiled it down, I’ve realized that my responsibility here is no more and no less than to love.  Simply.  Fully.  Unconditionally.

And man, it’s simple in premise but not always easy in practice.  It’s hard to love people sometimes.  Sadly, often sometimes, my fellow Christians are the hardest of all.  But I honestly do want to love like Jesus loved.  I don’t ever want to fall back on “loving the sinner and hating the sin.”  I don’t want to put conditions on my love.  I don’t want to be a hypocrite.  So I will say to Dan Cathy and to others who support groups that aim to oppress, disparage, and ostracize others,  “I love you”.

And then I’ll just stop talking.

68 Comments

Filed under acceptance, bible, faith, hot topics, hypocrisy, kindness, life, perspective, rant, respect

August 1, 2012 · 2:24 PM

When an Android Goes to Yoga School

I was crying.

Not the dainty, sweet kind of crying people do in movies, with one perfect and lovely little tear rolling down my cheek… but ugly, chin quivering, nose snotting all over the place with no where to wipe it crying.  It was the last day of my 15-day, 12-hour-a-day yoga retreat that wrapped up my RYT training.  I was mentally, physically, and spiritually exhausted;  my injured shoulder – which had hung in there quite admirably for two weeks – had just given out again;  and I was sitting in a ball, wrapped up in my vinyasa scarf, missing my last two classmates’ final teaches (one of which included an all-out dance party).  They were tears of fatigue and pain to be sure, but tears of relief and emotion and overwhelm as well.

But I guess I should go back to the beginning.

Two weeks earlier, I was sitting in that same studio for the first time … nervous, excited, and not knowing what to expect.  I mean, I knew I would learn a lot about yoga (although, how much I learned still caught me by surprise.   A few highlights that still stand out:  1) The day we learned how to properly set our feet down “with intention” 2) The several hours we spent breaking down each posture … Mountain Pose, a pose that looks like a simple standing pose?  So. Much. More. than simply standing when done correctly.  3) A five-hour hands-on anatomy workshop with a yoga therapist that absolutely blew my mind.  BLEW MY MIND.)

But we weren’t really talking about the physical practice of yoga that first morning.  We were talking about a spiritual journey, specifically the journey that we were about to embark on, together.

“If you don’t cry at least once in this room, you must be an Android.”  My teacher’s words were bold, but as it turns out, true.   Starting from that very first day, there were tears everywhere, from everyone.  Everyone except me.  I was the Android.  While it’s a small feat for me to have tears spring forth over something silly like a commercial, or a song, or a Disney movie… tears that are born from growing and sharing and honest-to-God emotions make me seven kinds of uneasy.  I never know how to handle a crying peer, I’m not the first one to offer a hug (hugs tend to make me uneasy too), and even attempts to speak are awkward, at best.

An Android.

But then – whether I’d actually intended to or not – I did take that journey.   I did grow.  I did open up.  I did learn.  And so help me, when I was getting prayed over before my final teach (and touched by 12 people I might add) and one of my teachers was rubbing my back, it was actually kind of nice.  That was day 14, and while I’d still yet to shed a tear on my mat, my cold, dead robot heart had surely softened a little bit around the edges.

And Day 15…. what can I say?  It had all caught up with me.  I was blubbering with the best of them.  It had been 15 days of learning, of growth, and of self-discovery.  15 days of trying not to stuff pain and emotion and utter exhaustion.  15 days of new friendships, raucous laughter, and real discussion.  15 days of connection with God, connection with peace, and connection with stillness.  It had all culminated right there in that moment on my mat, with an intensity that quite literally took my breath away.  Life-changing.  There’s no other way to describe it.

As for what I took away from those two weeks?  I have books and binders and notebooks filled with yoga information, so much so that I decided mid-way through that I needed to stop trying to digest all at once but instead take it piece by piece, giving myself permission to take time to absorb and practice and study at my own pace once I got back to the “real world.”   One of my very favorite things about yoga is that it is a lifelong practice… you’re never done improving, and you’re never done learning.  There’s no rush either.  I can rest, right here and right now, and just be, exactly where I am in my journey, both in yoga and in life.

What I’ll most remember though is not the physical aspect of yoga, but the spiritual, and the fact that that two weeks helped me “get it” for the first time in my life.

I might always be uncomfortable with crying.  I might never be the most “huggy” person in the room.  But maybe, just maybe, I’m not an Android after all.

 

3 Comments

Filed under about me, learning, life, yoga

July 12, 2012 · 10:43 AM

The Missing Bottle of Conditioner

I lost a brand-new bottle of conditioner.  I’d gone to Target, picked up the conditioner, and somehow lost it in between the car and the bathroom.   I didn’t even realize it was missing until earlier this week.   I’d gotten the bath all ready for the girl, she’d gathered all her pony friends, and I’d prepared myself for a half hour of some heavy-duty detangling.  But I couldn’t find the conditioner.

“How does someone lose a bottle of conditioner??” I lamented to my husband.

“By misplacing it?”

“No, no.  What I mean is, WHO loses a bottle of conditioner?  Who does that?”

“You do?”

He’s very helpful in my times of need.

I was able to squeeze out the last few drops from the old bottle, and the immediate crisis was averted.   We both enjoyed the bath, the girl’s hair was once again fluffy and tangle-free, and all was right with the world.  Except… it wasn’t.  Because I lost the conditioner.  And that conditioner suddenly represented everything that had been going wrong for the past month and a half.  I was that conditioner.   Lost.

For the past six weeks, I’ve been sleepwalking.  I’ve been discouraged and grumpy and far shorter with the people around me than I’d care to admit.  My brain is toast.  I’m forgetting things, and losing things, and as scattered as I’ve ever been in my life.  The house is running about as smoothly as you’d imagine it’d have to be running for someone to lose a bottle of conditioner.  I ran the car out of gas last week, something I haven’t done in probably 20 years.  As I’ve no doubt whined stated in previous posts, I don’t do the patient thing very well.   I’ve been in constant pain with this shoulder thing (which, as it turns out, is further complicated by 4 discs in my neck with varying degrees of protruding and bulging and stenosis and a bunch of other fancy-sounding doctor words).   And I guess I don’t do pain very well either.   Or being physically limited in any way.  Or being told to rest, some more.  The combination of all of the above slid me into a depression before I realized what had happened.  All the extra energy I’ve been able to muster – such that it is – has been going to my yoga training.  Fortunately, there was a lot of learning and studying and testing that didn’t require me actually *doing* yoga.   But there’s been precious little left of me to go around, for the kids, for my husband, for the house… and apparently for keeping track of minor details like what I do with my Target bags when I get back from shopping.

And then I lost the conditioner, and it jolted me from my sleep.   There’s only so much I can do about the pain, and only so much I can do about how quickly my body heals.  I do have to be patient there.  But I don’t have to let it define me, and I don’t have to mentally check out in order to deal with it.  I have a lot of choices, and while I can’t do anything about the choices I’ve made over the past six weeks, I don’t have to continue to make them.

The day after tomorrow, I start the 15-day, 12-hour-a-day yoga retreat that will complete my training for my RYT.    At the end of the retreat, I will have completed my 250 hours, and will be ready to start teaching.   Make no mistake;  I’m excited about that.   But what I’m most excited about really doesn’t have anything to do with yoga at all, and everything to do with getting refreshed, re-focused, and re-centered.  As always, the timing is far, far better than I could have ever planned it myself.   I need this retreat right now, and I’m finding myself actually grateful for the injury that is ultimately going to make me appreciate this two weeks so much more than I otherwise would.  So. Much. More!

I’m grateful that I lost the conditioner too.  I lost the conditioner, but I gained my life.  It’s a pretty small price to pay.

 

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Filed under about me, life

June 14, 2012 · 7:19 AM

Musings from the sleep-deprived

I’ve been an insomniac on and off for my entire adult life, so not sleeping is a not a new thing for me, but not sleeping because of pain is an entirely different proposition.  Before, I’d get up if it was really bad, but I’d otherwise snuggle up in my half-conscious stupor, and get lost in the world of infomercials.  (Proactiv or Meaningful Beauty, anyone?)

Right now though, once I’m awake I can’t lay down because the pain makes it impossible.  So I sit, upright, at 2 or 4 or whenever it is, get one of the ice packs from its rotation in the freezer, and just… wait.  The past week has not been a fun one in many ways, but I think that what’s getting to me the most is the lack of sleep.  Lack of sleep  – and lack of sleep from pain, no less – makes you feel a little…. crazy.

I had grand plans to get caught up on blogging:  I can’t do much else.  Oh how much extra time I’ll have on my hands!

Yeah.  As it turns out, having a brain that’s in good working order is sort of a prerequisite for any effective blogging.  Or writing.  Or thinking.  I’ve noticed that even my tweets and Facebook statuses have gotten progressively more riddled with errors over the course of the past week.  From half-thoughts to misspelled words to leaving words out altogether.  At least I haven’t misused an apostrophe.  I don’t think.  If I do, call my doctor.  Surely that can’t be a good sign.

Some thoughts though, that have been rustling around enough to annoy me, but never formed into a complete enough thought for an actual post:

1.  I’ve learned who my friends are this past week.  Kind of a strange thing really, to realize that it’s taken most of my adult life to totally grasp this, but there’s a reason we get to choose our friends.  I have good friends.   And – in another lesson that I’m for some reason destined to truly learn only as an adult – I will learn to focus on thankfulness for them, rather than on the people who ..well .. when push comes to shove tend to disappoint me every time.

2.  Patience.  A virtue I don’t have.  Yet.  A couple of weeks ago, I chose a name for my future yoga studio.  (It will be unveiled with my website, which I’ll work on soon since I have all this new-found time.  Ha.)  I was inspired by a Hebrew word meaning “wait.”  And if that is not the most perfectly appropriate word right now, I don’t know what is.  I’m learning a big lesson right now, and the fact that I’m not entirely sure what it is yet is of little importance.  Because right now, I wait… which may just be the lesson all by itself.

3.  I’m still meant to blog.  I was just talking to a fellow blogger a couple of days ago about the love-hate relationship we have with blogging, and whether or not we’re too sensitive to deal with the negative backlash that inevitably always comes with our more widely shared posts.  I very often think I’m not cut out for it, and decide that once I’m busy teaching yoga, my blog can just sort of quietly fade away, a digital memento of another time.  But then I get a really sweet and encouraging message from a new reader, someone who for some reason liked my words, was touched in some way from my words… and I’m reminded, again, that for better or worse I’m meant to be here.  Haters be damned.

4.  I am so crazy in love with my kids.  No, that’s not a new realization.  It’s just that this past week I’ve been forced to slow down and take a step back and watch them in a different way.  My interactions with them have had to change a bit, and while that’s had its downfalls (I hate, hate, HATE not being able to pick my daughter up when she wakes up in the morning and wants to be carried out into the other room) it’s had its positives too.   New perspectives are always a good thing, and so is watching.  And waiting.

Lots of waiting.

 

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Filed under about me, life, random

June 9, 2012 · 1:36 PM

Blessings and Pain

This is me about a month ago, feeling pretty badass for keeping up with all the men-folk on the camping trip.   I’d just thrown that little hatchet into the tree – with amazing accuracy I might add – after only my second or third attempt.  This was after we chopped wood (or rather, attempted to chop wood in my case) with an 8 pound maul.  8 pounds is not a lot, of course, until it’s lifted overhead and forcefully struck downward again and again and again with, uh, less than proper form.  Truthfully, I was happy I escaped with all my limbs and digits.  People who tend to trip over flat surfaces probably shouldn’t be wielding heavy, sharp instruments.  But I digress.  I can’t remember if the wood-chopping and ax-throwing was before or after the mile+ hike down to the lake, from which I carried my tired 45 pound daughter all the way back to the camp, but I do remember my husband saying with a laugh, “Oh you’re going to be sore tomorrow!”

He said a mouthful.

 

As it turned out, I wasn’t sore the next day.  It took a few days.  And even then, it was barely more than an annoyance at first …. a “huh, I think I tweaked my shoulder” kind of pain.   I kept up my heavy yoga schedule (modifying here and there to work around the discomfort), kept lifting the girl, kept driving all over creation, kept doing all the things moms do.  It slowly got worse, and I did my best to ignore it.   Until I couldn’t.  And then the exchanges began:

“It hurts.”

“Then go to a doctor.”

“I don’t have a doctor.”  Because I don’t.  (Or, “I don’t like doctors”, or, “I don’t have time for a doctor”, or my favorite:  “What’s a doctor going to do??”)

“Then take a pain killer and put some ice on it.”

And then I’d be near tears, and we’d both go off in a huff because we’re stubborn like that.

Last weekend, the whole “to doctor or not to doctor” decision was taken out of my hands when a flip was suddenly switched, and the pain went from bad to blinding.  No longer confined to my shoulder, it shot down my back, into my neck, and down the entire length of my arm.  A pain so bad I couldn’t sit, couldn’t stand, couldn’t lay down, couldn’t sleep… couldn’t do anything but, well, basically rock pathetically back and forth and cry.   Off to my friendly neighborhood ER… the same familiar place that lovingly matter-of-factly saw me through my emergency endoscopy and subsequent cholecystectomy when my gall bladder had called, “when.”  The same place that had placed a kidney stent when I had hydronephrosis a year after that.  The same place that diagnosed a ruptured ovarian cyst, and the same place that had seen me through my very first, very scary, allergic reaction.

(I’m a healthy person normally, honest!)

Now, a word about emergency rooms, if I may.  They have their shortcomings when it comes to specific medical care to be sure.  And it turned out that I got some incorrect, and even dangerous, advice for this particular condition.  But.  One thing that they’re really really good at is making pain go away.  They didn’t do a single x-ray that morning.  Not an ultrasound, not an MRI, no imaging whatsoever.  But they did give me some pretty fine drugs.  Pumped full of morphine (among other things) I went home and actually SLEPT all afternoon, something I hadn’t done for days.  The next morning I went to a doctor’s office that specializes in sports medicine and physiatry, and returned the next day for an ultrasound, a diagnosis (a significantly torn rotator cuff AND bursitis, because I don’t do these things half-way) and a shot of cortisone.

So now I heal.

The blessing?  I’m sure there are many, but at the moment I see two really big ones.

#1.  It’ll make me a better yoga teacher.   When I heard the ultrasound tech say, in that too-cheery, matter-of-fact manner that ultrasound techs are required to use, “Oh look at that tear!”, what I really heard her say was, “You’re done with yoga training.”   I was devastated.   Thankfully, my devastation lasted less than 24 hours.  The next day I got a return phone call from my instructor – and one of my newest favorite people on the planet – who assured me that it’d be fine.  That I’d take these next weeks to rest and heal and work on my book-work and do what I needed to do, and that when I came to the studio for my contact hours in five weeks that they would absolutely work around the injury… whether it means simply taking it super easy, modifying the asanas, or sitting some out altogether.  I can still continue on with the rest of the class, and I can still earn my RYT by the end of July.  AND, now I’ll have a whole first-hand frame of reference and extra education about helping my students safely work around pain and/or injuries (something by the way, that is a huge factor for sending many people to yoga in the first place.  And one of the most common complaints?  Rotator cuff issues!)  My education will suddenly be deeper, richer, and a heck of a lot more personal.  That’s a blessing.

And, #2.  It’s a lesson that for some reason I seem destined to learn over and over (and over and over and over) until I really get it, but this is forcing me to rest, and to learn to be okay with it!  I don’t like being told not to do yoga.  Not to do housework.  Not to pick up my daughter.  Not to do anything really physical for the next two weeks.  I don’t like it at all.  But. I. Need. It.  My doctor tells me I need it.  My body tells me I need it.   So I rest.  I learn to let others do for me.  I learn to stop running around.  I learn to honor my body and my injury.  I learn to brush my teeth with my left hand instead of my right.  In two weeks I get to start physical therapy (progress!), but for now, I just… heal.  I rest.  And rest is a blessing, too.

I’m still in a lot of pain.  As it turns out, ice and anti-inflammatories and muscle relaxants only do so much when you let an injury get as bad as mine did.  I’m fairly grumpy and frustrated about it all, I’m only sleeping a few hours a night, and Netflix instant streaming is my new best friend.  But right now, today, I’ll focus on the blessings.

And then I’ll take another Valium.

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Filed under about me, life, perspective

May 16, 2012 · 12:35 PM

What I Learned on my Summer Vacation

Or rather, on my spring camp-out.  In no particular order:

And finally, three days is a long enough break from real beds, real toilets, and hot showers… but not nearly long enough from housework, voice mails, and Facebook.

I can’t wait for the next trip.

(More pics are here)

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Filed under camping, life, random

May 4, 2012 · 6:51 AM

Common Sense Parenting

I think sometimes as parents, we make things way more complicated than they need to be.   I read a blog post the other day that referred to the “moral gymnastics” involved in everything from the food we buy, to the way we diaper, to the decisions we make about school.  It’s a term that resonated with me, and if your emails and comments are any indication, it resonates with many of you as well.

I seem to write a lot about how I parent from the heart (because I do), and how I’ve never regretted any parental decision that’s been made by following my instinct (because I haven’t) but there’s another component that I regularly rely on.  A big one.

Common sense.  And it never steers me wrong.

I get some sort of … odd … objections every time I challenge the traditional, authoritarian, way of doing things.  Objections that often make me wonder if we’ve lost sight of our collective common senses altogether.  Whenever I write about parenting without punishments and coercion, I’m met with something that sounds like this:  “But, but, they need to learn to obey you!  They need to hear the word ‘no!’  What happens if they’re about to reach for a hot stove or run out into a crowded street?”  As if the assumption is that a gentle parent wouldn’t dream of intervening when their child was in harm’s way.  It’s a silly, silly argument.  Common sense (not to mention parental instinct) tells us to protect a child who is in imminent danger.  Common sense tells us that with a loving and attentive parent as their partner and guide, that kids will naturally learn not to play in traffic, and learn not to touch a hot burner, and learn not to stick a fork in an electrical outlet.  We can give children choices, autonomy, and freedom;  we can say YES as much as possible;  and we can still trust that with gentle and compassionate guidance, that they will learn to navigate their world both safely and confidently.  Common sense.

Another one I’ve heard a lot of, especially after my Spilled Milk post, is that if there is not some punitive measure taken when the child commits some infraction, that they will never learn to respect other people and/or their belongings.  Common sense tells us that children learn how to treat others by watching how we, as their parents, treat others.   Common sense tells us that when we demonstrate appropriate boundaries, that they will learn.  For the past couple of weeks, I’ve brought Tegan with me to Paxton’s Physical Therapy appointments for his ankle.  There are no separate rooms… just one big, open room, with a few beds, exercise equipment, mirrors, and a small waiting area with chairs.  On any given day, there are never less than three other patients being worked with.  Tegan is four, and it’s hard for four year olds to wait quietly.  She’ll busy herself for a short amount of time with games on my phone, and then she’ll start to get antsy and loud.  It’s normal for a four year old to get antsy and loud in a boring waiting area, but her needs to be four don’t supersede anyone else’s needs for a reasonably quiet and undisturbed session.  So outside we go, where she can be loud and, well.. four, and the Physical Therapy patients can concentrate on what they came for.  Common sense.

Recently, I posted about what I felt were the benefits of not placing arbitrary limits on the media that our children use.   I’ve written about limits before, on everything from bedtimes, to food, to media.  Naysayers immediately jump to extremes, but the fact is, no limits on bedtimes does not mean that the kids just stay up for 72 hours at a time.  No limits on food does not mean that they’re existing on a diet of Ring Dings and Ho Hos.  No limits on media does not mean that the 4 year old is playing a shoot-em-up game on the xbox, while the 8 year is watching Debbie Does Dallas in the other room.  Common sense tells us that when we make sleep a safe, happy, thing when the kids are little, that as they grow they will trust themselves, listen to their bodies, and have a healthy relationship with both rest and wakefulness.  Common sense tells us that when we fill our house with lots of good, whole, interesting foods;   when we don’t let food become a battle of wills, a punishment, or a reward;  when we let our children follow their own cues of hunger and thirst… that they will eat when they are hungry, stop when they are full, and appreciate food for both its nourishment and its enjoyment.  Common sense tells us that the most important consideration when it comes to what they are watching, playing, & listening to is not controlling our kids, but knowing our kids, listening to our kids, and maintaining an open line of communication with our kids.   Common sense tells us to watch things that may be frightening, confusing or disturbing to our young kids when they are asleep/not around, and it also tells us that they wouldn’t be interested in watching it anyway.  Common sense.

Finally, common sense tells us that children, like all people (common sense tells us that children are people, too) respond to – and learn from – kindness, empathy, and love.   NOT from coercion, shaming, and punishing… and certainly not from this current trend of public humiliation via the internet.

It’s not rocket science.  It’s just common sense.

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